


Everybody Knows

by GothamGod



Category: Justice League (2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Justice League (2017) Spoilers, Post-Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Post-Wonder Woman (2017)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothamGod/pseuds/GothamGod
Summary: Justice League reimagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I’m back from hiatus, and I hope to get back to work very soon. So here’s a new fic for the troubles my absence has caused, and I hope to finish the next chapters of Beware the Dancing Clown and Legends of Gotham very soon! Keep your eyes peeled!

> _**“No protectors here. No Lanterns. No Kryptonian. This world will fall, like all the others.”** _

  
Chapter One:

Gotham has always been, to put it kindly, a _shithole_. But to the Batman, that didn’t matter, this was his city, his home. Despite his protection, Gotham’s crime levels have risen, so has the rest of the world’s. Chicago, Detroit, Metropolis, their police departments have been overrun, and it’s all because of Lex Luthor.

One year ago, the madman created a monstrosity, known as _Doomsday_ , using the body of General Zod as a host. After Superman went to confront Luthor, he sent the abomination on a hell bent war path against Kal-El, and anyone or anything that stood in its way. Batman aided in the fight, alongside a newfound ally, Diana Prince, princess of Themyscira. _Wonder Woman_. Something more than teamwork was formed that night, a bond, one that could never be broken. But, even with the help of the Bat and Wonder Woman, Superman sacrificed his life to save his world, and his love, Lois Lane.

For the first time since he met the Kryptonian, Batman realized how _human_ this strange visitor truly was, and rethought his motives, returning to his roots. After nearly seven years of self destructive, borderline psychotic behavior, Gotham’s Dark Knight returned, as did his alter-ego, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne.

Wayne anonymously funded Clark Kent’s funeral, watching from afar. Lane saw his face during their showdown, knowing damn well she wasn’t ready to face the man that nearly killed the love of her life. It wasn’t until Diana arrived, that he decided to unite the metahumans like her. They’ll fight, he told her, they have to.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, and the time has already aged the jaded vigilante more. Batman narrowed his eyes, looking up at the sound of a slammed screen door. Across the gap between his vantage point and the apartment complex, he watched his prey pull a revolver out a duffel bag.

The Bat had been waiting for this opportunity for hours, and his time to strike was now. His body was still with patience, as his gloved hand reached for his belt, removing his grapnel from the hook.

The gangster, known as Bressi noticed the vigilante across the way, and attempted to play his ignorance off. Bressi gripped the firearm tightly, turning his back swiftly, then returning his attention to the Bat, firing the gun.

Batman’s reflexes quickly took over, allowing him time to grapple behind a water tower. His arms gripped the edge, as a pain began to take a toll on him. He pulled his body over the edge, pouncing down on Bressi. The mobster fired another round into the hero’s chest, the bullet piercing his armor, barely stopping before his skin. Batman lunged forward, sending a strike into the man’s hand causing the weapon to fly straight over the building’s ledge. They glared into each other’s eyes for a solid fifteen seconds, locked in a standoff of intimidation. Bressi was the first to break the lock, moving towards the Bat with a sloppy strike, which the vigilante was easily able to counter with a throw. 

Bressi was well aware of the Batman’s darker years, which were the result of Robin’s murder at the hands of the Joker and Harley Quinn, and as his body flung over the ledge, all he could feel was a cold paralysis striking his body. He barely felt the hook clamp onto his sweater. Much to his relief, the Dark Knight saved his life. “Okay,” the mobster spoke breaking the still silence, “what do you want?”

“ _Fear_ ,” the vigilante spoke gruffly, his voice filled with years of agonizing torment, “they can smell it.” Bressi raised an eyebrow questioningly at Batman’s statement, and nearly jumped out of his skin as the low monstrous growl hummed below him. Two beady glowing eyes glared at the gangster from the darkness of an alleyway, as a bug-like creature flew straight towards him.  
Batman pulled back on his grapple, throwing Bressi to the floor of the building. The vigilante sprinted towards the ledge, jumping onto the bug’s body. This infuriated the creature. The weight of the man nearly dropped it down, but it was determined to finish its job. The creature soared upwards, attempting to break the Bat’s grip on its body. Batman grit his teeth and sent a fist into the wing of the creature, allowing their descent to begin. The vigilante moved to the back of his adversary, pushing the creature’s body down, tumbling to the building.

The Caped Crusader opened the ends of his cape, gliding safely towards the roof, firing a safety net onto the creature, cornering it into a door. Batman met its orange eyes with his own brown ones, his gaze like hot steel that could kill armies if that ability were possible. But that’s when things began to take a turn for the worst.

The creature’s body began to heat to temperatures similar to Kal-El’s heat vision, and the body exploded into a fury of singed organs.

“ _What the hell_ ,” Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne’s faithful butler and surrogate father, spoke into Batman’s comms unit. The vigilante sighed heavily, examining the blast. “You seeing this, Penny-One?” 

“ _Yes sir_ ,” Pennyworth replied with a troubled tone. “The symbols match those in Luthor’s notes.” Of course they do, the Bat thought silently, taking a snapshot of the symbols with his high-tech lenses embedded in his cowl.  
“Alert Wonder Woman, it’s time to bring the team together.” Batman ordered softly, turning his body, noticing that Bressi had disappeared, most likely during his struggle with the alien. “Contact Gordon, I’m going to Arkham. It’s about time I pay Luthor a visit.”

Diana’s daylight activities usually consisted of the same each day. As a museum curator for the Louvre there’s not much excitement in her life. Except for her other job. Much like Bruce, Diana spent a majority of her free time fighting for those who cannot do so for themselves. 

One brisk autumn evening Diana took her stroll through the streets of Paris, taking in the nightlife. She had lived there for years, but the city never ceased to amaze the demigoddess. But there was always one factor that always tugged on her heartstrings in a negative way. Couples. They always broke Diana down, threatening to never stop until the day she died. She always pondered her loneliness, longing for the day it would fade. Diana missed Steve Trevor with all her heart.  
Trevor was an aviator for the United States military during World War 1, and the first man Diana ever met. He had crash landed on her home, Themyscira, a magical island created by the Gods to shield the Amazons from the outside world, after he extracted a formula for a horrendous weapon that could shift the tide of the war. The Amazons bravely defended their male visitor, but with a cost. They lost several of their warriors, and they’re general Antiope, Diana’s aunt, sister of Queen Hippolyta. 

After the German soldiers’ defeat by the Amazons, Steve informed them of the war, and the extreme urgency of his mission, causing Diana to self appoint herself as Trevor’s escort back to Man’s World. Hippolyta forbade her daughter to leave the island, while unknowingly encouraging Diana to disobey the order. Diana stole sacred armor, a shield, and the ancient sword known as the Godkiller, a weapon so powerful, it was blessed by Zeus himself as a way of protecting the Amazons in the event his son, Ares the God of War should return.

Later, Diana returned to Steve, and successfully returned him to London, where he gave the formula to Ally intelligence. Diana soon deduced that the cause of the war was Ares’ influence over man, and alongside Steve and a ragtag band of misfits, set out to destroy him once and for all.  
When they had successfully tracked the God of War down, Steve had sacrificed his life after proclaiming his love to Diana, and with horror pulsing through her body, she watched the man she loved die for a cause he believed in.  
Steve’s selfless act inspired Diana, and she was able to successfully destroy Ares, while learning Zeus was her father as well. That was one hundred years ago.

The pain was still very present, buried deep in Diana’s heart, but it had become more tolerable, especially since she met Bruce. It was obvious there was a connection between the two, and Alfred had noticed it, not letting a day pass where he doesn’t pester Bruce about it. 

A soft jaded smile planted on Diana’s lips at the thought, and continued her stroll through the City of Love. Her hands were buried deep in her pockets, trying to keep the warmth between her fingers. After several hours, Diana returned to her apartment, placing her coat on a hangar, taking a seat and began to check her phone. She had a message from Alfred.

Her raven eyebrows curled up, as she listened intently to the elderly man’s voice, explaining the extreme need for her to return to the states. Diana bit her lip gently, a tear beginning to sting her eyes. She knew exactly what she and Bruce were up against, and prayed to the Gods they could stand a chance against them.  
“ _Invasion_...”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

   Commissioner James Gordon knew the rains would return, they always came back, it was only a matter of time. Now, on the anniversary of Barbara's paralysis, they returned. Jim clutched a cigarette between his middle and index finger while his hand began to shudder violently. His aged body threatened to give up every night he was out in the streets. Jim's old bones couldn't keep up with Gotham anymore. He was too old for this job, but refused to retire, not until the Batman, _Bruce_ , did. Once that day comes, maybe he and Barb could leave the city, and never look back. _Maybe_.

   "Those things will kill you, Jim," Batman spoke heavily from the darkness shrouding the asylum grounds. Gordon smiled softly, flicking the cigarette to the concrete, and stomping out its blaze. "Heh, well _something_ has to, right?" Jim got the tension out quickly, before their official business went forward. "I've had Arkham's best doctors evaluate him all year. If he won't speak to them, we've got nothing."

   "I'll make him talk."

   “Arkham has rules against excessive force, you know? After what you did to Joker..."

   Jim's voice faded out of the Bat's ears as his memory drifted to that fateful night. The night Jason Todd, Robin, was murdered in cold blood by the Joker and his deranged former psychiatrist, Harley Quinn. Bruce didn't hold back that night, he nearly killed both of them, knocking J's teeth clean out of his jaw. Batman narrowed his brown eyes, and fought back the memories. Now was _not_ the time to have an episode.

   “I know, I'll restrain myself."

   "Good," Jim replied with a relieved sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was fill out another file of papers trying to clear what happened. He motioned the vigilante to follow his lead into the hospital. Batman stepped from the dark, stalking into the dim lights of Arkham Asylum. A place so vile, one night there can turn even the sanest man mad. The hospital has been around since the early 1900's, founded by one Dr. Amadeus Arkham, a psychologist who fell into lunacy while "curing" Gotham's mentally ill. Arkham's history is shrouded in horror, darkness, and insanity, the thoughts of its origins made the stone cold vigilante's stomach churn, creating a nauseating feeling. Batman's feet shuffled through the long corridors, treading carefully behind Jim, not losing sight of what lied ahead. The distant moans of agony from each inmate filled the Bat's ears, but he tuned them out. _Not now_ , he told himself, _not in front of Jim. Not with him._

   They soon reached their point of destination, a cell isolated from the others. Home to America's most wanted criminal mastermind, Lex Luthor. Jim stopped at the door, and motioned for one of the orderlies to open it. "Good luck," he said softly."

   Batman did not reply with words, but let his actions do the talking. He moved slowly past Gordon, and entered Luthor's realm. His eyes scanned the padded room, and laid on the balded head of the former billionaire. "Well what have we here," Luthor asked quietly, chuckling to himself, turning his body to meet the fierce vigilante.

   "I told you I'd be watching," the Bat replied, stepping towards the inmate. "Earlier this evening I encountered something extraterrestrial that matched a sketch in your notes. What was it?" Luthor grinned softly, quirking his bald head to the side.

   “I have no idea, but I know who they serve,” he replied with a hushed voice. Batman narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

   “Who do they serve?”

   “Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr. Wayne.” Lex’s smile grew intently at his remark, only to be pulled over the table by the Bat.

   “Tell me, or I’ll crush every damn bone in your body.” Batman’s voice was rough, filled with rage and pain he had worked hard to conceal. His tactics worked, allowing fear to twinkle in Luthor’s eyes.

   “They call him Steppenwolf, and as I said all those months ago, he’s coming.”

   Batman released Luthor, throwing him back in his seat. He turned quickly, and exited the cell, meeting Gordon’s gaze. “What the hell are we going to do?”

   “Let me worry about that. Get an evacuation plan ready should matters become worse.” Batman moved his gloved hand to the comms unit in the cowl, activating the line. “Alfred, prep the jet, we’re going north tonight.”

  Back in the Bat Cave, Alfred nodded softly, pulling up files on a group of metahumans Wayne had gained months back. “Good, it’s time then.”

* * *

 

    Diana spent hours making the final travel arrangements, and finally finished the packing. Her hazel eyes floated to the ancient Amazonian armor. A soft smile grazed her lips but quickly disappeared at the sounds of sirens. Her body turned to a window, and watched squad cars zoom past, heading to the _Louvre._ Diana furrowed her brow, reaching for the armor.


	3. Chapter 3

The band of mercenaries roamed through the halls of the Louvre, collecting or slaughtering potential escapees where they stood. Blood splattered among the white walls, staining the bricks and paintings in its path. The mercs grinned from ear to ear, enjoying every minute of the job. “Stick together, boss wants us in tight formation,” one ordered, gathering responses from the team.

A soldier looked over to a gate, seeing a family of three trying to sneak past them. He glared slightly, running towards them. The family broke into a frantic sprint, trying every hallway they could to avoid the gunman, only to hit a dead end. The mercenary stopped in his tracks, and with a venomous grin, took aim.

He slowed his breathing to halt, and slowly began to squeeze the trigger. Before the bullet could escape the chamber, a golden lasso wrapped around his waist, and propelled him into the air, meeting the gaze of a tall vixen-haired woman. The woman glared at the man, wrapping the lasso tightly on her hand.

“The lasso of Hestia compels you to tell the truth,” she began in a smooth voice, “now, who are you?” The man squirmed slightly, and became fearful as the rope began to glow, and magic coursed his veins.

“I- I am Gregor Dosynski... we are a small group of reactionary terrorists,” he spoke softly, tears beginning to form. He knew the consequences of giving up information, but he couldn’t help it, not now. Diana pulled Dosynski closer to her, quirking her head. “Who is your leader?”

Gregor allowed the tears to flow, and looked down. “We call him the KGBeast... his name is Anatoli Knyazev.” Diana looked ascarce as Dosynski spoke the name. It was familiar, she would look into it soon, before she reached the states. “Why the hostages?” She asked.

Dosynski shook his head, “Knyazev wanted to make a spectacle... show the world he was back...” Diana furrowed her brow, throwing Dosynski behind her, and jumping down into the fray.

“You’re too late,” he called out, fear still very much present in his voice, “the countdown’s already begun! You cannot stop it! No mere person could do it!”

In many ways, Dosynski was right, but Diana was no mere person. She moved stealthily through the corridors, taking out the occasional soldier. It didn’t take her long to reach the main hall. As she approached the door, she placed her ear on the wood, and listened in.

Knyazev stood on the other side, ordering his men. “Keep them quiet, or I’ll spill _your_ blood as well!” His voice was gruff, and broken, clearly suffering from an extreme accident. An accident that happened at the hands of the Batman. The KGBeast gripped a leather studded case, and opened it, revealing the bomb strapped inside. “It is time for the world _and_ the Batman to know I am back, and I will not be defeated so easily.” His right hand inched towards the key components on the bomb, and activated the countdown. “Move!”

Before the mercenaries could react, the door burst open, shards of wood and glass spraying to the floor. Diana stood above them, moving at high speeds to dispatch of three gunmen. Anatoli watched in utter disbelief, reaching for his silenced pistol, and fired two shots. Diana quickly dodged the bullets, pounced forward, and grabbed the bomb. She shut the case, and jumped through the roof, hurling the detonation device into the air, where it safely imploded.

Knyazev grit his teeth, and looked to his left hand, one that had been crushed in the accident and now replaced by a prototype machine gun from LexCorp. The anger washed over him as he loaded up the weapon, and took aim at the hostages. “This should have been over quickly.” Time felt surreal to him as a bullet fired from his weapon.

It soared through the air, fueling the screams of the hostages, only to be deflected by the woman who destroyed the bomb. Diana glared at Knyazev, throwing her sword at the gunman’s arm. The tip of the blade impaled the metal, and threw his arm into a wall. Knyazev’s eyes widened in fear as his defeat took place. “ _Impossible_ ,” he began, “what are you?”

Diana smiled slightly, clenching her fists. “A believer.” Her arms raised, gauntlets glowing, and with a mighty stride, she struck them together, sending an energy wave towards KGBeast, knocking him out cold.

Iceland was an intriguing place, a natural mystery, it was no surprise it was the only known sighting of another enigma, an enigma Bruce Wayne spent weeks tracking. Wayne rode his stallion across the frozen tundra, and climbed mountains until he reached a village in Djúpavík. Bruce stepped off the horse, removing his face mask and goggles, and gazed down at the town below.

It was a quiet area, located by the sea, far from anywhere else, perfect for a man who seeks exile. Bruce turned back to his horse, and saddled up. “Let’s go, girl.”

Wayne rode his horse down into the square, feeling multiple gazes linger on him as he stopped outside a pub. He locked up his horse, and walked in slowly, watching the patrons turn and meet his own gaze. Bruce licked his lips and scanned the crowd.

“There is a stranger, who comes to this village from the sea. He comes in the winter when the people are hungry, and brings fish. He comes on the king tide,” Bruce exhaled heavily, then looked again across the crowd, “That was last night.”

The patrons looked between each other unsteadily, as one long-haired man turned slowly to face Wayne. “ _Talk_ ,” he ordered in a particularly rough voice.

Bruce stepped forward, “I believe that an enemy is coming, from far away. The first signs of an oncoming invasion have been spotted in Gotham City, New Jersey. I’m building an alliance to defend us, it’s very important that I see this man.”

The long-haired man narrowed his eyes, and stepped closer to Wayne, bearing him down. “This man doesn’t exist. You’re chasing fairytale, old man.”

The bartender nods, “Ísar í höfninni, ekkert skip hefur verið inn eða út.” Bruce smirks softly, looking at the bartender,“Þessi maður kemur ekki með skipi.” The long-haired man glares angrily at Bruce, picking him up by the collar, he thrusts Wayne into the call, making cracks.

Bruce groaned in pain as he looked down at the man. “Arthur Curry... protector of the oceans, heir to the throne of Atlantis, the Aquaman.” He smirked slightly, forgetting the pain inflicted onto him.

“I hear you can talk to fish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations from Icelandic-  
> Ísar í höfninni, ekkert skip hefur verið inn eða út: “Icebergs in the harbor, no ship has been in or out.” 
> 
> Þessi maður kemur ekki með skipi: This man doesn’t come by ship.


	4. Chapter 4

"So you do it dressed like a bat, like an _actual_ bat?" Arthur asked intuitively. Bruce looked over, and nodded slightly. "I've operated twenty years in Gotham."

"Oh that shit hole," Arthur replied in an annoyed tone. Bruce narrowed his eyes, watching his feet. After a moment of silence, he breathed in deeply, then returned his attention to Arthur. "When the fight comes, we'll need you." That was a mistake. Arthur stopped, and put his arm across Bruce's chest, and glared at the older man. "Don't count on getting anything from me, rich boy."

Bruce grit his teeth, returning the glare Arthur gave. "Why's that?" He asked angrily. Arthur let go of Bruce, and continued on his path. "'Cause I don't like you comin' here digging into my business and gettin' in my life. People from Atlantis telling me to do this, then you show up from the states and start tellin' me to do that. I just wanna be left alone." Wayne rubbed his chest slightly, and grimaced slightly. "Is that why you come here, so you can just leave?" He shot back.

Arthur removed his jacket, flinging it into the ocean. "I help them 'cause no one else does." Bruce's eyes followed the jacket, then back to Arthur, who had begun to undress. The billionaire shook his head, "If you want to help them, then you have to work with me." Arthur stepped into the water, the cool sensation running up his body. 

"You ever hear of Superman?" Bruce asked softly, causing Arthur to stop. "Yeah, I've heard of him. I saved his life once, before it all went to shit." Bruce looked down, the guilt began to rise steadily once more. "He died fighting next to me." Arthur glared at Bruce again, this time much more menacing. "My point exactly." 

Curry had a point. Bruce Wayne seemed to be a magnet for trouble, and tragedy. He's lost his friends, his family, and his home. This war of his was bound to be even worse. Bruce turned his head, noticing the citizens draw nearer. "What about those boxes?" Arthur smirked, and shook his head. "They're ancient history, old man." Bruce narrowed his eyes, stepping forward once more. "If I'm right about this, they'll be gunning for you and your people." 

Arthur chuckled softly. "Dressed like a bat. You're outta your mind, Wayne." The Atlantean turned his attention to the water, and dove in, leaving them behind. Bruce sighed. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong."

Bruce turned on his heels, and walked past the civilians, each of them watching him for a moment, then returning to their normal routines. He reached for his communications device, then hooked it to his ear. "You get all that, Al?" 

_"Yes, sir. The jet is prepped and ready for your arrival."_

Bruce nodded, "Good. I'll be there shortly."

* * *

Metropolis- One Year Ago

_Victor Stone walked out of the stadium, jersey and gear in hand. His teammates rushed past him, slapping his back. "Good game Vic!" Stone smiled, and nodded, "You too, man. Have a good night."  The young man looked up, and smiled wider at the sight of his parents. He jogged over to his mother, Elinore, and hugged her tight._

_"You did great sweetie," Elinore said. Victor felt a swell of pride, "Thanks mom." He pulled back from the hug, and met eye contact with his father, Silas. Doctor Silas Stone worked for S.T.A.R. Labs, a research facility based around the United States. He was the head of the Kryptonian department, and lead researcher on a device found in Germany after World War II._

_Silas smiled softly at his son, and outstretched his hand. "Good work, son." Victor ignored the offer, and shrugged it off. "Yeah, thanks." He looked back at his mom, "Can we pick up somethin'? I'm starving." Elinore nodded. "Of course, Victor." Silas opened the door to the family car, and they piled in. They drove out of the stadium and exited the area._

_The car drove smoothly until they heard the sounds of gunfire. An approaching car zoomed forward, ramming the rear end of the Stone's vehicle, causing it to fly forward, crashing into a LexCorp truck carrying volatile chemicals. The chemicals spilled out of the truck, and quickly lit on fire. Silas quickly unbuckled his belt, and got out of the vehicle, hoping Elinore and Victor did they same. Victor watched the flames draw nearer, and reached for the button on his belt. He pushed it rapidly, and got out. Elinore then tried with no luck._

_"Victor! Silas!" Both men looked to the car, then Vic rushed towards her side, and began to help. Silas tried to get the crowd out of the way, then turned back at the sound of an explosion. Their car flew a few feet into the air, and landed on its side. Victor was blown back by the blast, and bashed into a pole, his spine shattering. Silas watched in terror as his wife burned, and his son laid broken._

Victor woke up, screaming in terror. He glanced around the room, his room, and controlled his breathing. Every night had been this way since the accident, countless dreams replaying the events over and over. The young man breathed heavily, and slowly got out of his bed. He reached for his GCU hoodie, and threw it over his body. Victor lowered the hood, and stepped out of his room. His eye scanned the living room as he took multiple steps into it. That was when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. 

Victor stepped towards the mirror carefully, his red eye gleaming in the reflection, showing the monster he had become. The Cyborg.

* * *

 

The Wayne jet flew through the air, high above the clouds. Bruce held the razor tightly, ensuring he wouldn't make any mistakes. He moved the blade down, and finished shaving the beard from his face. "So you say you have no way with reconnecting with this, Aquaman, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, placing a bottle of whiskey onto a table. 

Bruce shook his head. "I put a tracking device in his coat, but he left without it." He reached for a towel, "It might not have been his coat," he said with a whisper. Bruce threw the towel down, and walked out of the bathroom. "Those squares in Luthor's notes. I think they're containers of some kind."

Alfred raised a brow questioningly. "Of what, sir?" He asked, offering Bruce a drink.

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, clearly frustrated. "I don't know. Money, power.." he replied, taking the glass. "Something worth starting a war over."

"Ah," Alfred bluntly said, turning to the computer. "Well, we've had luck with one person on the list." His fingers tapped the touch screen, and entered the files. "Barry Allen of Central City. He's completely off the grid. Squatting, I think. Moves suddenly, and often."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, examining the screens. "Disappearing act. We've seen plenty of those." Alfred nodded, "But he does visit his father." Bruce nodded. "I know. Incarcerated in Iron Heights for the murder of Nora Allen, his wife." He let out a deep breath. 

"Young Barry has always protested his father's innocence," Alfred continued, "But he was nine, nobody would listen." Bruce moved to the bottle of whiskey, and poured himself another drink. "What about, uh, Diana?" 

Alfred smirked, folding his arms and legs. "I contacted her, and she begrudgingly agreed. I believe she would have wanted to hear from _you,_ Master Bruce."  Wayne gripped the bottle tightly, then put it back. He grumbled to himself, and moved back to the screens. "What?" Alfred asked. "Would you rather me have flown to Paris, and hand delivered a note, 'Will you be Bruce's teammate? Check yes or no?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I'm only interested in her skill set." Alfred snickered, "Oh I'm sure you are." Wayne shot a glare at his butler, and shook his head. "Dirty old man. Can we get back to business?" Alfred nodded, "As you wish, but facial recognition is a bit dodgy on this one, to say the least. But we've got a partial match." The screens flickered, and showed images of the Gotham Knights, and their quarterback winning the championship. "A Victor Stone. Genius IQ, football scholarship to GCU, and deceased." 

Wayne shook his head, "Shit. Fairy tales and ghost stories." Alfred looked between the screen, and Bruce. "One misses the days when one's biggest concerns were exploding wind-up penguins." Bruce smirked, and took a seat next to Alfred. "The simple life."

Alfred's expression changed rather quickly, a frown plastered on his lips. "I don't recognize this world." Bruce stared at the screen, "I don't have to recognize it. I just have to save it."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Barry Allen was an exceptional man, even after all he had seen and gone through, with exceptional abilities. When he was nine, his mother, Nora Allen, was murdered by what seemed like a red tornado, and inside that tornado, was a man in yellow. The blame ultimately shifted to his father, doctor Henry Allen. Barry always believed his father was innocent, but was always dismissed.

Ever since that night, Barry studied criminology in hopes of finally proving Henry's innocence. He graduated from Central City High at the top of his classes with all honors. This led to him getting a scholarship to Central City University, where he met his destiny. One night in his personal laboratory, Barry was struck by lightning. The bolt of energy mixed with the chemicals around Barry, causing the young man to tap into a mystical power known as the Speed Force.

He was in a coma for nine months, and when he came to, he learned rather quickly of his abilities, and was quickly frightened by them. Fearing the label he would be given, Barry ran as fast as he could. The Speed Force allowed him to reach speeds people could only _dream_ of.  

For months, he tried to hide his abilities, but ultimately failed. After witnessing a robbery at a convenience store, Barry tapped into the Speed Force, and stopped the mugger. This led to his discovery by Lex Luthor, who placed him onto the Metahuman watch list, that Bruce Wayne stole at the party where he encountered both Clark Kent, and Diana Prince for the first time. After Superman's sacrifice, Barry was inspired to use his gifts for good, and donned a custom made armor that could tolerate the speeds he could reach.

When he first appeared as a hero, he was quickly labeled the "Red Streak." He never cared for the name, but it would do for now, at least until _after_ he proved Henry didn't murder Nora. 

He was hoping that would be soon, he always hated visiting Iron Heights, it always gave off a violent feeling he couldn't shake, no matter how many times he was there. This was one of those times.

Barry stepped through the gates on the penitentiary, and instantly felt the eyes draw towards him. He was smaller than most of the guards and inmates, but size wasn't always everything. He trekked along slowly until he reached the Visitor's Center. His brown eyes moved to the check in officer, and smiled softly. The officer returned the smile as Barry wrote his name down on the sheet. 

"It's good to see you, Barry."

"Thanks, Earl. You too." Allen responded.

He watched the gate, and walked in as it opened. He let out a sigh of relief, then strolled to the visiting area, and sat by the phone, eagerly waiting. His foot began to tap quickly, lightning bolts sputtering out with each movement. Barry quickly put a stop to the movement, and rubbed his knee anxiously, then stopped when Henry was escorted out. 

Barry smiled as he shared a look with his father, and picked up the phone. Henry held out his hands, allowing the guard time to uncuff him. After a few moments, the former doctor took a seat across from his son, and grasped the phone tightly. "Hey Bar."

Barry's smile grew wider, "Hey dad."

They conversed for several moments, laughter shared by both of generations of the Allen family. "Your mother would be so proud of you, Bar. But she'd want you to let this go." That made Barry frown. "The investigation was botched, you know that."

Henry sighed, "That may be true, but look what it's doing to you. You're running around in circles, taking dead end jobs to pay for a Criminal Justice degree, all the while jumping through hoops to see an old man who isn't going anywhere." Barry felt his lip tremble slightly, and allowed his foot to tap once more.

"You're great Bar, you can be anything you wanna be. You're smart, handsome, and funny. What about Iris?" Barry perked up at the name. "She's doing okay. She's been taking care of Wally." Henry chuckled, "That's not what I meant man."

Barry frowned, "That's never gonna happen, dad. She and I, we just aren't meant to be." Henry sighed, and moved closer to the glass. "Listen to me Barry. I want you to stop coming to see me." Barry quirked a brow, and felt his jaw open slightly, "What?"

"I am a drag on your life. I'm bringing you down every day. You can be so much better if you cut me out of your life, and move on. You're great, man."

Barry fought back the urge to let the tears flow. "Please don't say that to me ag-" his words were cut off by the sounds of sirens. Both men looked up as guards rushed to their feet. "It's a riot!" One shouted. "Up Allen!" Another one said, picking Henry up roughly. Henry looked back to Barry with concern, "Run Barry! Run!"

Barry narrowed his eyes, and turned, checked both sides, made sure he was alone, and used the Speed Force to sprint home. He arrived in his bunker, and gazed at his armor. He moved quickly, and threw it on. He turned on his heels, and ran back to the prison, bursting through the gates, lightning trailing behind him closely. 

The hero stopped in the courtyard, and examined the situation, only to be interrupted by the shouts of inmates. "It's the Streak!" 

"Get him!"

"Cut him up!"

Barry smirked, and sprinted forward, his arm shooting up in front of his face.

* * *

Bruce held the wrench tightly in his hand, and tightened the bolts on the new vehicle he had Lucius Fox finish designing. He listened to the broadcast signals coming from his gauntlet, and stopped when he heard one similar to the one that drove the scout on the rooftops crazy. "That one!" Bruce said, looking down to Lucius. "That drove him nuts. You think you can reroute it into the Batmobile speakers?"

Lucius smirked, "Of course I can, Mr. Wayne." Bruce smiled in response. "Good, try to boost the signal." Lucius nodded, and began to work on the speakers. "Alfred, can you hand me that screw driver?" Pennyworth nodded, and handed the tool to Fox. "Thanks."

Bruce listened to his surroundings, and heard the sound of footsteps, but not from Lucius nor Alfred. "You know, I paid millions of dollars for this place's security?"

"Yeah, it looked expensive," Diana responded with a smirk. She looked over her shoulder, and waved to Alfred. She returned her attention to Bruce, and walked up the steps towards him. Bruce smiled, "Hi."

Diana replied with her very own smile. "What's this?" She inquired, examining the vehicle. "Prototype troop carrier," Bruce replied, crossing his arms. Diana felt her smile fade slightly. "I once knew a man who would have loved to fly it." Bruce could tell there was sadness in her words. "Well, we're gonna need more than a pilot. I believe there's an attack coming."

Diana shook her head, "Not coming, Bruce. It's already here. The others. Where are they?"

 


End file.
